9:00 AM, Day 1

In the week before they would get leave, when the anticipation rose to an almost unbearable height, orders came in that sent them into the city. It was a brisk March morning in Japan, and the draft they were receiving from their current altitude only made the wind more chilly. Dawn sunlight draped its deep orange glow across Tokonosu City, giving off a sense of serenity.
The two Marines, who were unfortunate enough to be sitting on the sunny side of their MH-6 Little Bird transport, squinted against the sun's abusive light. Their wrap around sunglasses did little to block out the brightness.
One of the soldiers clutched a fluttering piece of paper in his right hand, while the left was latched onto the barrel of his MK18 mod 1 assault rifle. The man had received the letter from home upon waking and had torn open the envelope in excitement. His elation evaporated quickly as he read the contents of the document. It had read:

Dear Lukey,

Sorry for not responding sooner but I needed time to think. I had a long talk with my mom and dad this weekend and they feel it's best for the both of us if we end this. I've always been supportive of your military career, you know that. But I can't keep on pretending I'm happy with our current arrangement. I need you here more than you are and these letters and the odd phone call aren't enough. For both our sakes it's time we moved on. We can still be friends if you want and we can talk more when you come home in a week but I thought it would be fair to give you a heads up. Once again I'm sorry.
Please stay safe,
Ashley

At first he had balled the letter up and chucked it into the trash as tears threatened to spill out of his eyes. He had gone to the bathroom to splash water out of his face and try to settle himself down. As he stood in front of the mirror, resisting the urge to put his fist through the glass, he began to wonder what had brought about those feelings from his girlfriend of four years. He then studied himself in the mirror and, in a moment of self pity, began criticizing his own appearance.

Lucas "Huck" Huckley was a twenty four year old white American from Arizona, standing at six feet and two inches tall with light brown hair, tucked under a black Arizona Diamondbacks hat, that was starting to get just a bit to long. His wide eyes were a bright emerald color and he had a hooked nose. His narrow mouth was surrounded by a rough five o' clock shadow, bald only in an one inch scar on his left cheek he received from shrapnel. He also had the blue letters U.S.M.C self tattooed on his right bicep. His six years of service had conditioned his body into a slim but muscular figure. At first glance the young man looked solemn but once he got comfortable he was a quick-witted and funny.
Lucas had joined the Marines right out of high school, following the footsteps of his father. Due to the length of his service he had risen to the rank of Lance Corporal. He didn't excel in any one field, his CO even commenting that he was 'terribly average', but he was obedient and dependable. Three years prior he had gotten transferred to the 31st Marine Expeditionary Unit (MEU) stationed at Camp Hansen in Okinawa. He was put under the command of Gunnery Sergeant Mitch Adams and his Spearheads.

Now Lucas, or Luke as he preferred, stared unseeing through his black shaded Oakley sunglasses at the letter as the helicopter buzzed just feet above the rooftops of downtown Tokonosu City. The squad of four were on their way to extract the CEO of a pharmaceutical company in the heart of the metropolis. Finally the Lance Corporal stuffed letter into one of his pouches. He knew he should just chuck it but for some unexplainable reason, he kept it. His emerald eyes scanned the cityscape as he ignored the inane chatter coming in on his radio from the two lower ranked personnel on the team.

Suddenly a deep commanding vocalization broke through, "Alright, team, listen up," it was the voice of GySgt. Adams, "we are one minute out from the LZ. Private Trout will take point. Huck, you'll watch our six."

"We expecting trouble, sir?" came the light voice of Private Lawrence Trout. The pale kid from Missouri was the newest member of the squad. He was only nineteen and had the ego to match his age. Though his attitude could be attributed to 'short-man syndrome' as he was only five feet and five inches tall. He had his golden brown hare shaved in the traditional military style. His eyes were a hazel and he had a crooked nose from being broken too many times.

"Always expect trouble," came the cliché reply from their superior. Mitch Adams was the oldest and most experienced of the group at thirty three years old and standing at an even six feet tall. He had short rough black hair and a short goatee. The dark skinned man had dark brown eyes to match. He was from California and was widely respected throughout the 31st.

"I know what you mean, sir," interjected the fourth member of the squad, and soldier who Luke shared the bench with, Private Bruce Causey. Bruce was the tallest of the group, standing at a massive six feet six inches. Despite being only twenty eight years old, he was starting to bald and as a result he shaved his head clean. Being from Florida, his skin was tanned bronze which was offset by his pale blue eyes. Causey joined the Marines at a later age than normal but had still managed to pack on an enormous amount of muscle, adding to his intimidation factor. "Seemed like all of Hansen was on high alert this morning," he stated.

"Something big is happening," the GySgt. confirmed, "I don't know what, but they wouldn't send us on just a simple retrieval mission."

"No shit," Trout retorted, "talk about a waste of skills."

The pilot of the bird interposed, "We are approaching the drop point,"

Seconds later the helicopter touched down on the roof of a five story office building, the squad pushed themselves out of their seats and squatted in a waiting position while the bird lifted back into the air. Three of the four held their combat helmets firm on their heads against the downdraft. The fourth, Huck, didn't wear a helmet and instead waited until the bird had retreated before reaching into his back pocket and placing his Diamondbacks hat on his head.

"Breaking away," the pilot's voiced came over the radio, "be back in five."

"Roger that, Thrush," Adams called into the mic, using the pilot's call sign. He then signaled for the squad to move. Luke stood, and switched the safety off and checked to make sure the weapon was set to single fire mode. As a well trained unit they moved to and down the roof access, the only noise was their footsteps mingled with the metallic clinking of their gear.

"The VIP should be on the fifth floor in the south-east corner room," Adams explained as they exited the stairwell into the hall. The unit froze at the sight that greeted their eyes. Blood was pooled at their feet with a trail leading off down the hall and around a corner. Chairs and desks were overturned, paper strewn across the floor as signs of a struggle.

"What the fuck?" Trout blurted out.

"We need to move quickly," the sergeant ordered and once again the team moved on. More blood was smeared on the walls and across furniture, filling the team with a sense of uneasiness. The closer they got to their destination, the gore intensified but there was still no sign of a body.

THUMP!

Ahead they heard the sound of something heavily impacting a hollow surface and they quickened their pace. The team rounded the corner and there stood a man in business casual attire, but what caught their eye was the fact that he was bleeding heavily from a neck wound. The man raised a hand and swung it with all of his strength at the door he was facing, causing another loud THUMP to sound out. Adams tapped once on Trout's shoulder and the private stepped forward a few spaces.

"Excuse me, sir?" he called out to the bloodied figure, "I'm with the-" he stopped talking as the man turned towards him with a spine chilling groan. The man's skin looked as if it was decaying and his eyes were dead, one rolled back in his head.

"My god," Bruce exclaimed. Upon hearing the soldier's voice, the strange man lurched forward into a shambling walk, releasing another groan from his mouth.

Trout brought his M16 to bear on the man, "Sir, stop where you are," he ordered, but when the thing kept coming he shouted, "I said halt!"

Huck readied his weapon as well, centering his square holographic sight on the man's chest. The office worker ignored the instructions, it even picked up its pace, and reached out both hands towards the young private while still groaning.

"Huck, non lethal shot, now," Adams ordered.

Luke lowered the sight to the man's left thigh and fired once. The bullet ripped through flesh and muscle, tearing out the back of the leg as well, but the figure didn't fall. A collective gasp of surprise escaped the team. Luke re-centered the sight on the injured leg and fired once more. The being staggered slightly as its leg was shredded again but it still kept on coming.

"Trout, drop him!" their leader ordered.

Pop! Pop! Pop!

The Missouri native fired three shots in quick succession into the man's chest, the bullets passed through the body, taking meat with them. The force of the blows paused the stranger for a brief moment, but it still didn't tumble. The unit back stepped a few feet, their disquiet could be felt on the air. Huck brought his sight up to the being's head and fired. Bits of brain rained onto the floor as the bullet exploded out the back of the skull and finally the man dropped dead.

"Jesus fucking Christ," Trout cried out, "what the fuck was that?"

Suddenly the door that the thing had been assaulting opened and an older Japanese man stepped out, his left hand clutching his right wrist as blood spilled out in between his fingers.

"Don't shoot!" he shouted, his voiced laced with a heavy accent, as four assault rifles centered on him, "I'm still man."

"Tahara Yutaka?" Adams asked and at the man's nod he continued, "I'm with the MEU. We were sent to extract you. Mind telling me what the hell happened here?"

Yutaka shook his head fervently, "I don't know," he declared, "my secretary informed me of your approach. Next thing I know everyone is screaming and running away. My assistant tried to kill me! He bit me and I ran in there," he stopped as he noticed the dead man on the ground.

"He didn't give us a choice," Adams stated as if reading his thoughts.

"He was a good friend," Yutaka said, "but I know you must do your duty," he then knelt next to his friend's corpse and muttered a phrase in Japanese.

Huck's attention was drawn by a nudge from Trout, "What did he say?" the private whispered.

"I don't know," Luke shrugged, "my Japanese is decent at best but I didn't recognize any of that."

"Ground team, this is Thrush," the pilot's voice broke the silence.

"We hear ya, Thrush," Adams responded.

"We are headed back to the LZ, it's getting hot out here,"

"Roger that, we're on our way. Let's move people."

The squad moved back towards the roof access with Yutaka in tow, but before they reached the door a young woman stepped out of another room with a higher pitched groan. She looked the same as the thing they had killed earlier, dead skin and empty eyes.

"Causey, you're up," the sergeant ordered as the team formed a diamond around the VIP.

Bruce raised his MP5, which looked like a mere toy in his mammoth hands, and fired a burst center mass. The lady jerked as the rounds tore through her but she stayed up and began her strange walk towards the team. This time Trout took the initiative and fire a single round into her head.

"What the hell is going on?" Causey asked. Just then the halls echoed with groans and a throng of the things came barreling around the corner further down.

"To the roof now!" Adams shouted, popping off a couple rounds from his M4 carbine into the crowd.

Luke was the last through the door and as he passed by he threw the door hard but one of them had made it too far into the passage way and the door slammed into it. The body was knocked backward but the door didn't latch, allowing the rest of the mob to barrel through. Huck retreated up the first flight of stairs before turning around and firing a couple of shots, which did little to slow the horde down. The things marched up the stairs faster than he anticipated, causing him to flee up the rest of the stairs taking them two at a time. He burst onto the roof, spun, and attempted to slam the door, but they were right behind him and one managed to stick its mangled arm through. Huck pushed with all of his might but he could feel himself losing the battle. Finally he gave up and took off across the roof, shaking the groping hand from his shoulder, towards his team. He could hear the chopper approaching but it was too far off yet. The Arizona man squatted next to Causey, readjusted his hat, switched his MK 18 to full auto, and raised it to join his comrades. The unit sprayed the approaching mass with round after round but they refused to fall. Suddenly from behind, the twin guns of the MH-6 spooled up and sent its payload into the crowd. The high velocity rounds tore limbs from their sockets and cut bodies in half as the blood painted the rooftop crimson. When the chopper got closer the co-pilot ceased fire as it landed. Yutaka was the first in the chopper, then the four took up their previous positions on the outside benches. Just as the remaining creatures reached them, the helicopter lifted off, pivoted, and headed off home.

Next to Huck, Bruce shielded his hands with his body as he attempted to light a cigarette, but he was shaking so bad he ended up fumbling the butt and it was swept away on the wind. Despite himself, Huck barked out a quick laugh and noticed he was trembling as well.

"What the hell was that down there?" the pilot asked.

Adams' breathless voice answered, "I haven't a fuckin' clue. I've never seen anything like that."

"Look," Bruce suddenly said and Huck followed his pointing arm, "That's the Japanese Self-Defense Force." Four black-hawk helicopters buzzed buy, close enough that they felt the turbulence through their bird.

The helicopter passed over a large gated structure and Huck found his attention drawn to one corner of the roof. He spotted three figures standing staring up at them, one of the people, a female with brown hair dressed in a green and white outfit, was waving her arms at them, obviously trying to get their attention.

"What did we just fly over?" Huck asked Yutaka as the man had put on a headset.

"Fujimi Academy," the old man responded, his voiced strained with effort, "A boarding school."

Luke turned around to examine the old man at the sound of his voice and saw that he had gone incredibly pale, and was sweating profusely.

"Gunny," Huck called to Adams, "somethings wrong with the VIP."

Adams turned into the helicopter to inspect when suddenly the old man slumped back. Mitch felt for a pulse but there was none, "He's dead," he stated in disbelief. Before he could react the old man sat straight up again and lunged at the sergeant's neck. Huck was nearly deafened at the blood curdling scream that came over his ear piece and before he could see what happened the helicopter lurched one way suddenly. Yutaka's lunge had driven Adams all the way into the cockpit, the sergeant's arms flailed in pain which knocked the stick from the pilot's hands. The chopper spun out of control then suddenly the tail collided with a radio tower. The abrupt impact tossed Bruce from his seat and he disappeared with a shout of dismay.

"Bruce!" Huck roared, "Bruce fell! He fell!"

The tail of the bird was ruined and the craft was plummeting towards an alley way as Huck held on for dear life. Suddenly the heli spun sideways and collided with two separate buildings and Luke was thrown clear. He landed heavily on a box truck, rolled down the cabin, and landed hard on the pavement, losing consciousness in the process.

Just a short chapter testing the waters. Others will be longer. The characters you know and love (and don't love) will appear next chapter.